For What It's Worth
by BrokenRose12
Summary: Tommy Merlyn died, his name listed in amongst the many others who were killed during the Undertaking. Brought back through the use of the Lazarus Pit, he is forced to join the League of Assassins alongside his father. His life taking a turn he never expected. Eventually, Tommy would return to Starling City, but could he really reappear without expecting to face those who lost him?
1. Chapter 1

**I don't know how many people are writing something like this but I decided to give it a shot. I had this idea for a while now but I had to wait until season two was over for obvious reasons. So, basically I'm going off the assumption that Malcolm used the Lazarus Pit himself, which is how he survived. This story will be mostly Tommy centric but the others will be in it more later when they're all in Starling. Anyway, please let me know if I should continue or not, reviews are appreciated.**

* * *

In a veiled city nestled high in the mountains of Tibet, there is said to be a place of healing and enlightenment. A temple stationed amongst the rocky terrain where most people are blind to its existence. Only a select few know of its location, its purpose, and who lives within its walls. Surrounded by icy wind and snow, an eternal winter blew across the area, solely those willing to make the treacherous journey were permitted inside, but that did not mean you were welcomed the moment you walked within the building.

Large wooden doors were pushed open only moments ago. A man cloaked in black, wisdom beyond his years etched into his façade, stood firmly in place. With a simple raise of his hand, his subordinates seized their hostile position, weapons pointed at their guest. His arms swung behind his back, a few steps sauntered forward as he tilted his head, allowing him to speak.

The man's words were spoken in despondency, very unfitting for someone of his former rank, but the whole story was heard. The room was quiet and bathed in small inklings of tension. Ra's Al Ghul, Arabic for Head of the Demon, gave a subtle nod afterwards, the single motion allowing them some privacy, the other men around then dispersing in a matter of seconds.

"Do you understand what you are asking of me, Malcolm?" Ra's asked, piercing eyes narrowing. He walked further inside, a nonchalant shrug made before he sat down. Candles illuminated the space, dimly allowing his expression to be seen. "I find it rather daring of you to step foot here after breaking our Code of Honor. You committed an act of treason. I should just kill you where you stand."

"But," he continued, his voice slightly airy in an astute sort of way, "You were my second best student, apart from my daughters and under the very man who had made himself my adversary. What could you possibly have to offer me in exchange, to further reason your journey? Are you willing to give up your freedom and place yourself in the League of Assassins once again?"

"I will do whatever it takes," Malcolm announced. His face remained stoic despite the waver of guilt hitting him as they went on talking. He wished it didn't have to come to this, that he didn't have to go to such drastic measures but it was his only option. "I can no longer return to Starling City… I have nothing else to live for anymore."

"Make no mistake, your son died because of your actions," he proclaimed. "True heroism is defined by sacrifice and real heroes are the ones that give up the most. Are you sure you want to take that away from him? To bring him back to a world where he can no longer be the same man? You are aware, if I allow your request, he will have to pledge his loyalty?"

Malcolm lowered his gaze in some thought. He wanted them to be close, it was something he always desired to have, but knew his son's morals. Just because he was able to point a gun at him it didn't matter, he lacked the conviction to pull the trigger. Tommy wasn't someone who could kill, to take someone's life away. It simply wasn't in him to do so.

But at this place, where clarification and insight were found, weaknesses such as those are not tolerated. Rather they were extracted from you and used for strength, used as a motivation so to speak. It was here he discovered his purpose, to make the city a better place, especially for Tommy. So he could live without worry, without having to suffer from the same fate his wife did. It seems, in turn, his efforts made no difference.

"I know," Malcolm finally replied, his voice echoing against the walls. In all reality he never anticipated his plan of The Undertaking to fail, yet it wasn't his place to question the fate of his objections, nor was it his intention to get Tommy involved. Malcolm could have left things as they were but there was remorse resting for causing him an early death. Now there was no turning back. He knew Rebecca wouldn't want her son to be stripped of life so early "Perhaps my reasons are selfish but he's my son. Wouldn't you do anything for your Nyssa or Talia?"

"Regardless, that does not mean I have to accommodate your wish," Ra's remarked. The reply was flatly said but held meaning. "Trust is a slippery possession; one wrong move, one accidental slip of the tongue and it all comes crashing down. It takes a relatively long time to gain such reliance, unless one had accurate perceptiveness and as of right now you hold none of my reliance."

"Then I will earn it back." He never particularly liked being stationed below someone, yet right now wasn't time to debate such things. Malcolm's eyes followed the careful movement of the older man as he stood from his chair and took a few steps closer. He always wore the same composed look, as if nothing could send him amiss. "You will have both my allegiance and Tommy's," he added.

Ra's dropped his head some, giving a few slow shakes. "The effects of the Lazarus Pit are not kind, Mr. Merlyn, but you know that yourself. Do not assume because he cannot die from injury after its use, he won't." A pause was taken, his profile now visible. "Here he faces death in a different sense. It does not wait for you to be ready, it charges straight at you."

"The insanity fades after some time and so does the extra strength. I am willing to risk it." The brutal training, the jobs that followed after, if he could face them so could Tommy. His jaw tightened slightly though. He raised his eyes soon after, he never really wanted to come back here but knew there was no other way to bring someone back to life without the pit.

"I can tell. I am feeling oddly generous today. I will see to your request but if you so much as think about betraying the League again consider not just yours but the fate that awaits your son as well. I am not one who takes perfidy lightly." A side glare was sent towards Malcolm, his caginess expressed through a single look "Come, we will get started right away."

* * *

Finely tipped heels hit the wooden flooring of the Queen Mansion. Laurel kept her head low as she walked. Withdrawn from the world around her, she could only think of the one she lost because of her own ignorance. Tommy came rushing in to save her from being crushed by the place she'd spent hours working case after case. Not a glint of anger flashed through his eyes; instead he said those words she couldn't even bear to think about right now.

Tommy Merlyn was a friend, a friend she had grown to love more than she ever thought possible. She gave everything to him, her heart, her soul, every fiber of her being and yet, he was taken from her. Their breakup still plagued her mind, confusion, grief, guilt for casting him aside and sleeping with Oliver the moment he came running back to her.

The truth, as hard as it was to admit, was he was the only person she actually let in since the billionaire's return, either by choice or otherwise. And now he vanished as well, permanently. It felt wrong for someone so innately good would no longer be in Starling City, no longer be there to bring a smile to her lips, to hold onto when she needed someone, to help her through another difficult time, because she knew all too well that things weren't vaguely close to being alright.

The memory of clutching his limp body dulled her eyes of life. He was so close and yet so far. She tried extremely hard to be strong and was for the most part, but it didn't last, her strength drained, she merely existed amongst the crowd. How was that living? Laurel Lance had become a phantom, a victim to her own emotions, trapped between the thin line that separates life and death. Stuck between feeling nothing, numbness was easy to fall into, and feeling too much, so much it literally pained her to breathe.

Oliver warned her to stay out of the Glades but she didn't listen and somehow Tommy knew she would be at CNRI, for some reason he came. He came and saved her. He lifted the heavy stone caging her to the ground and told her to go, that he was right behind her. He never made it out. The building came down on him. The pain he endured, she couldn't imagine. Pounded by debris and skewered by a metal rod, it was horrible.

His voice still personified in her mind. His tone, so deep and rich, always circled her as if she could still hear him, as if he was standing right next to her. There were so many things she couldn't forget about him. The way his lips quirked upward, a chuckle would always follow soon after, how much he genially loved her, his ability to hide every vulnerable part of himself with banter and wit. She knew all aspect of him by heart.

And that just made it hurt more. It was too much for her, it was always too much. She never thought thinking back to happier times, her happiness with him, would be so painful. A shaky hand was brought up and pulled through her curls of hair. She was here for a reason and needed to keep her mind on it without getting trapped in painful memories.

When she approached Oliver's room, he was seen packing a bag. Laurel sighed a bit at the sight before lightly knocking on the open door. "Can I come in?" A nod was made and she could see the way he tried to hide his sad expression, thinking he had to conceal in front of her. "I pretty much figured you wouldn't be coming to the funeral. Where are you heading off to?"

"I'm not really sure right now. I just can't…" He couldn't even finish his sentence. Oliver looked away, licking his lips. It was his fault; he blamed himself for Tommy's death. What good was he to this city if he couldn't even save the life of his best friend? He needed to get away, head to the island. He found clarity there once before and maybe he could again.

"I know. I still can't believe he's gone." She shook her head some prior to sitting on his bed. "I remember during your funeral, Tommy almost didn't go either. Thea was actually the reason he changed his mind. She didn't even want to leave the house. It was too hard for her to accept, losing both her brother and father. She was only twelve."

He glanced up at her, feeling another pang of guilt at the way her brown hues started to water. Closing the suitcase and placing it aside, he took a seat next to her, staring down at his folded hands. "How did he get her to go?"

"After Moira told us she was having a hard time getting Thea out of her room, Tommy just went right upstairs and started talking to her. I don't know what was said but she came down with him," Laurel replied, blinking the hazy coating of water from her eyes.

"Tommy never really said anything about himself while I was presumed dead," the Queen said, letting out a heavy breath. "I just got the usual, carefree attitude." His voiced dropped some as the memories wedged their way forward.

"He was devastated when you died, but I hardly saw it," she replied, her tone quiet. "He was so busy, partying as a distraction, I'm sure, helping Thea and being there for me… I don't even think he had the proper time to mourn." She tugged on the hem of her black dress some when silence engulfed the room. Just talking to Oliver after what happened was difficult and she knew he felt the same level of strain.

"We were fighting a lot before the Undertaking," Oliver suddenly announced. His lips curved with the barest pull. "And it was over something stupid and could have been avoided if I just…" He drifted again, unable to give her any more details. But if he just talked to Tommy, opened up to him a bit more, then maybe he wouldn't have taken his secret the way he had.

"You were his best friend. I'm sure deep down he was never mad at you for whatever it was." She wouldn't push, couldn't bring herself to do so. Laurel reached her hand out towards his giving it a light squeeze; it was the only comfort she could provide when she was feeling so down herself.

Tommy's apology ran through his thoughts, almost making him wince. "I still can't believe Malcolm was the one behind everything." He needed to change the subject, diverge it from himself.

"I can't either. It hurts losing the people you love but killing so many people? I don't see how that solved anything." Laurel could find no logic in that, no one really could. Her head bowed down some, her voice getting caught in her throat. She couldn't get herself to add something more.

Oliver turned away some, a light breath leaving his lips. Being someone who now very rarely forgot things, he could easily recall every moment of that night, the whole day even. He was never going to make it to Laurel in time, meaning she would be the one dead. He just wished he could tell her everything, about his secret, about the island, let her know what Tommy's last words were, that they were about her.

"Part of me still can't believe he's gone," she said, voice low, interrupting the quietness overcoming the room once more. "Do you ever expect him to just," she gave a small shrug, "I don't know, show up?" Chocolate hues turned met his blue orbs, and in them, she found security, but also pain, a pain so raw it made her want to take back her question.

"He died, Laurel, you saw it yourself." But she didn't witness it, didn't watch as his life fade out until he was no longer breathing. "People don't just come back to life," Oliver added, closing his eyes for a moment.

That wasn't entirely true because Slade did after being injected with the Mirakuru, but he killed him after shoving an arrow through his eye. Besides, that wasn't the case here. What happened to Tommy was different, yet it was still another death he held over himself.

Laurel cleared her throat. "I should probably get going," the brunette said, standing from the bed. Using one hand, she smoothed out the wrinkles on her dress formed over the short length of her sitting. She took a few steps before turning around, looking at him with a withheld expression. "Are you sure you don't want to come? Thea and your mom are probably already there."

Oliver shook his head. He really couldn't bring himself to sit through Tommy's funeral. Having to talk about him and just seeing the coffin would make everything feel worse. Moreover, he needed to leave now. Felicity and Diggle wouldn't be able to track him and no one would really know where he went. All he knew was he couldn't be the Hood anymore, couldn't be the hero everyone needed him to be.

He watched as Laurel gave a small nod prior to walking out of the room. Oliver rubbed his hands over his face, feeling the slight sting of water. Getting up, he started packing again. He was ready to leave and didn't plan on coming back anytime soon. He was sure Thea would be alright, at least he hoped so. The youngest Queen was extremely upset when he had to break the news to her.

With a heavy heart and tired countenance, since sleep evaded him since his friend's death, he closed his bag. After giving his room one last glance, Oliver picked up his case and headed out the door.

* * *

Tommy's eyes suddenly opened. Small rays of light briefly blinded unused orbs. After blinking a few times, things started taking shape and color. His gaze stretched to the ceiling. Carefully he turned his neck, muscles aching, and the room was taken into view, hollowly filled with little items spread about. A carpet, old and utilized, covered a section of the wooden floor. A table to the side, partnered with two chairs, both gathering dust. A window located further down with darkly hung curtains.

The mattress he rested on was somewhat uncomfortable and the blanket beneath was rough from age. All senses were yanked onto him at once making it hard to gather anything. An attempt to prop himself up triggered a groan to fall from his lips. A ghostlike pain slid along his abdomen soon after, causing his breath to become stilted.

With much difficulty, Tommy forced himself up. Confusion immediately set in. He was supposed to be dead and yet here he was, very much alive, his breathing was shallow but consistent. Fingers pressed against his face, skin cold, and he soon realized after feeling some resistance, his wrists was chained to the wall. A weak yank was made but he found himself too drained to do much more.

With every part of his body aching, he let his muscles rest, trying to run a few things through his mind. The small ligneous window gave him a view of snowy mountain peaks, meaning he definitely wasn't in Starling City anymore. The screeching of hinges from the nearby door caught his attention, his blue eyes quickly shifting to the location.

"Tommy," Malcolm spoke softly, his voice full of relief. He closed the door behind him and shortened distance between himself and where his son laid. "How are you feeling?" It had been over a week since he was placed in the pit. The first time he woke up, he was mentally unstable for a long while and probably wouldn't recall anything before this point.

"Dad?" the youngest Merlyn slowly questioned. It took him a moment to collect his thoughts. How he felt, that was hard to answer; he honestly couldn't gather that much right now. "What happened? Where are we?" he inquired, the words coming out without much thought. Tommy pushed himself up some only to suppress a hiss of pain from the sudden motion.

"Don't strain yourself," he told him, placing a hand on his shoulder to gently ease him back down. "It's complicated. I don't want to overwhelm you. Just try to relax, you are still very weak. We are in Nanda Parbat, the place I told you about." Malcolm took hold of a bottle from the side table, handing to him. "Here, drink some water."

"I don't want any," Tommy remarked, raising his hand up in protest. He couldn't think straight right now and even if he was thirsty, feeling a dry burn down his throat every time he spoke, he needed answers first.

After giving a sight nod, he sat down on the bed next to him, making sure he left enough space. "I know you have a lot of questions and I'll answer them, but first just tell me what you remember." He tried to hold back the regret in his tone because Tommy should have been well out of harm's way when the devices went off, he had knocked him out to assure that, his actions a bit harsh but necessary.

Tommy leaned his head back some. He recalled the discussion he had with his father, hearing his mother's voicemail, finding out Malcolm was the Dark Archer, and how he killed so many people in his need for revenge. And then there was Laurel, she was trapped and he rushed into CNRI to save her. But he never made it out in time; he wasn't quick enough to escape.

Oliver came soon after the building collapsed their conversation still fresh in his mind. But Tommy was sure he died. There was no mistaking the sensation of numbing limbs and fading heartbeat, nor the darkness that soon ensued after he was plunged by a metal rod. The blood seeping from the wound was hardly felt after a while, but the agony he suffered was replenished upon the memory.

"I died, I'm supposed to be dead," he suddenly stated, shaking his head back and forth. Starting to feel a bit overwhelmed by the flush of memories, his breathing became more rapid. Unable to stop himself from hyperventilating a nauseating feeling steered in his stomach. It was too much at one time, everything just felt strange and out of place.

"You have to stay calm, Tommy," Malcolm told him slightly alarmed. However, he knew this was a natural thing to go through after being revived. He handed him the water again and this time he took it from him.

A few small sips were taken, the liquid soothing his throat. "How can I?" he asked, coughing a few times. "I'm alive when I shouldn't be and the Undertaking… how many people were killed because of it?" Anger formed within his sentence but dispelled some, holding onto irritation was too draining right now but he couldn't forget what his father did.

Malcolm looked away for a second. Rebecca's death brought him to this place, it gave him purpose after feeling so lost. Ra's presented him with an offer to join and in doing so he gained knowledge of what had to be done. And what happened to Tommy was his deepest regret. "I know it's a lot to take in. But you have to understand. Destroying the Glades was the only answer, I wanted to make things right, to make it better. And to do that, it had to be rebuilt from scratch."

"By killing innocent people, who had nothing to do with what happened to mom?" Tommy asked, his voice low, almost inaudible. He pursed his lips still trying to settle his nerves and keep his breathing at a normal rate. His gaze searched the man's eyes for an answer he wasn't providing, something he couldn't bring himself to say perhaps.

Malcolm shook his head, not wanting to raise his voice. "She was murdered and left on the street to die. No one stopped to help her. They just kept walking as she bled out on the pavement. The people of the Glades are not _innocent_. You may not comprehend my reasons right now, but you will in due time." He took on a stoic kind of look, as discussing what happened was never easy.

Tommy let out a derided sort of scoff before turning his head. He didn't want to talk about that anymore, he couldn't get through to him exactly how wrong his actions were, that murder wasn't the answer to his problems. "And what about the chains?" he asked instead, dragging his hand up some, the metal clanking as it moved.

"If was for your own safety. You were mentally unstable. We had to make sure you stayed in this room until you were no longer a threat to yourself." Malcolm moved to unlock the restraints with a small metal key he had. He settled back onto the bed and brought his hands together. "You have actually been awake for over a week, but I'm sure you don't remember, it will slowly come back to you though."

His brows narrowed in confusion, what he was saying made no sense. He held onto his wrist, rubbing it to ease some of the rawness. "How am I alive?" he breathed, a slight pain hitting against his chest, not sure he wanted to know the answer or not.

"There are parts of the world where death is an illusion. This is one of them," the older man replied. "You were placed in the Lazarus Pit. It's composed of a unique unknown chemical blend. No one really knows what it's made of but it has distinctive properties. The substance possesses the ability to rejuvenate the sick, injured and even resurrect the dead."

What he said seemed so out of place, so seemingly unreal it rendered him speechless for a few moments. "That's not possible," Tommy started to say as he placed his water bottle on the side table. "There's no way something like that could exist." But the evidence was the fact that he was having this conversation right now and yet he still wanted to disbelieve him.

"I wouldn't be here either if it wasn't. My fight with Oliver didn't end in my favor. Getting stabbed with an arrow even in a vial place couldn't kill me, but I learned to be very convincing," Malcolm told him with a slight turn of his head. "But you already know he's the vigilante. I'm guessing you found of the night the humanitarian awards. It's the only reason you would have allowed that blood transfusion. He had no choice but to show you his identity, funny how he tried to save me back then without knowing who I really was." The poison simply lowered the rate of his heart, eventually, when it was out of his system, he would have woken up on his own.

Tommy really didn't care that Oliver lied when he said he didn't kill his father. Unknown to anyone Malcolm survived, now everyone just supposed they were dead because both of them should be. And if he really spent two years here, in Nanda Parbat, what exactly did he do? The story was never finished when they were at the hospital but he had a feeling he would find out soon enough.

Licking his lips, Tommy glanced away, his shoulders falling some. "He was right about you the entire time and I just didn't want to see it. For once we weren't at odds with one another and then I find out what you were planning, for what, over five years? It doesn't even matter now because you already used the earthquake machine. That thing almost got Laurel killed," he added with a bitter expression.

"And she would have been dead if you didn't die in her stead," Malcolm remarked. Wouldn't he have taken that bullet so his wife could live? Yes, he wouldn't even hesitate. People did crazy things for the ones they love and he noticed how fond his son was of the brunette when the three of them had dinner together. Tommy was really becoming a different man because of her.

"Why?" he suddenly asked. His voice was strained, it was a mix of disbelief and something he can't quite put a name to, disappointment, anger, a mix of the two or something else entirely. "Why did you bring me back? What's the point in doing that? It's not like I can go back to Starling City." That place was his home, where he grew up.

Malcolm placed his hands on Tommy's shoulders, needing to make some kind of contact. "I lost my name, my wife, I couldn't lose you, not my son too." There was a sort of desperation in his tone when he spoke those words, as if he really had nothing else without his family. He wasn't a good father to Tommy, wasn't around when he should have been and there was no making up for that.

"That doesn't make what you did right," he said, lowering his gaze, yet he didn't shrug him away. "Is there anything else about this Lazarus Pit thing that I should know about? Does it have any other side effects for using it?" He wanted to know at least that much and perhaps he didn't mean for what he said to come out so harsh but it couldn't be helped.

Malcolm removed his hand and placed them on his lap. "You won't die from fatal injuries. In that sense you'll be somewhat immortal, your life range, however, will be normal. It only steadily increases the more you use the pit. You will have increased strength for a while, it could last a few more days or maybe a week or two. And lastly, experiencing painful headaches isn't an uncommon trait," he explained.

Tommy didn't know what to say to that, he simply rubbed a hand over his forehead in slight frustration. He couldn't live a normal life if he tried. He couldn't see the people he cared about. Laurel, Oliver, Thea, they'd have to stay a part of his past. Showing up when you're supposed to be dead, that didn't work for everyone, but he still had to ask. "Okay, besides all that, am I ever going to get to leave here, wherever here is?"

"We are in Tibet. And I'm sorry, but leaving is not an option." He stood from the bed, watching the way Tommy closed his eyes, giving his head the smallest shake. The reality of the situation seemed to hit him pretty hard. "I'll get a doctor. An incredible amount of strain was placed on your body. You need time to regain your strength before training can begin."

"Training for what?" Tommy asked, veering his gaze towards his father in a quick motion. His fingers tightened together, grasping the edge of the blanket. He hoped he was wrong with what he was thinking.

"I never wanted you to be part of this place but since you are here there is no other choice, this is something you have to do. The alternative is nothing compared to what awaits you." Malcolm took a step forward, bringing his hands behind his back in his usual fashion. He wanted Tommy to be strong, to be able to handle himself better, just not through this way. He'd much rather teach him on his own without Ra's and his methods. "You have to become a member of the League of Assassins."

* * *

**This chapter turned out a lot longer than I expected but I hope you guys enjoyed it and like I mentioned before, if you want more please review. I would love to know what your thoughts are. I actually had to do some research since I don't read any comics and just in case you're wondering, I'm taking Ra's al Ghul's personality from Batman Begins, since I know he's in a lot and his characteristics, although similar in just about everything, varies. **


	2. Chapter 2

**I know it's been a while since I posted my first chapter but I finally got around to finishing the second one. I was getting a lot of positive feedback so I hope you guys are happy with this one as well. (Since I forgot the disclaimer before I'll put it here, I own nothing.)**

* * *

Despite the little time that slipped by, half of the Glades rested in shambles. Buildings gone, hardly any left standing. The air in that particular section or maybe over all of Starling City was colder, dragging down the smiles of countless pedestrians until frowns were all a person could see. When the sun faded from the horizon and the stars twinkled against the night sky, whether they were obscured by the streetlights or by the hazy mist coating the atmosphere, they were still there, which many wished for better times, to erase what happened.

Within the darkness the real monsters came out. Citizens turned savage, ravaging for a morsel of food, money, anything their fingers could grab hold of. Everything once copiously supplied was gone, forgotten the moment the ground shook. Fights broke out and minds flooded with vengeful notions, but the one to blame was gone, assumed to be killed by the vigilante himself, another locked in jail. Eventually retribution would fall onto any rich family, anyone who indulged in wealth while they suffered in broken homes.

Thea Queen was no acceptation to this view, her life changing drastically after the incident. Though most blamed Moira for what happened, the youngest member of the family had to be out in the world and hear the voices of those who spoke of their distain. Every person at school looked at her differently, although most said nothing to her directly.

Her only salvation was Roy and Walter whenever he stopped by. Even if her brother wasn't around, Thea was able to keep moving forward and not let things drag her down, in spite of everything she became extremely strong willed. Although she slipped into depressing thoughts every now and again, times when sadness was easily read in her expression.

But she was happy to have her boyfriend around because in spite of all the things they'd endured, she somehow still found her way back to them. She often wondered if his comfort would be enough to chill the aching pain that came and went every time she thought of who was taken away. For the first time in a long time, Thea felt lost but if not for Roy's consistency she would have been even more forlorn. It was him who placed a hand on her shoulder, who gave her fingers a small squeeze of reassurance whenever she needed one.

Today, however, she wore a smile, able to hold it in place without much worry of it falling. Regardless of the short amount of schooling left, Thea already made up her mind on a few things. One of them being the reason she dragged Roy out to a certain section of the Glades. He didn't complain much about the detour since he really only spent time with her now.

"Why are we here?" Roy asked after entering Verdant. The club was abandoned the day its owner took off. He didn't see why his girlfriend decided to bring him to the pretty much uninhibited building. A few steps in were taken, a piece of fallen equipment was lightly kicked to the side before he became stationed. The main room was a bit dusty and fallen bottles of alcohol stained the floor.

"I know you're not very open to the idea of working, but I was thinking about fixing this place up and running it myself," Thea announced with slight pride in her tone. "With Oliver probably somewhere out in Europe, someone needs to run the club, right?" And who better than her? After all, she knew how to handle a business, well from the sidelines anyway. She'd just have to take the time to learn the interwoven details.

"You know I'm not the biggest fan of your brother's," he said, pausing for a moment once an exchanged look was given. "But don't you think he'll want it back? I'm not even sure why he left in the first place." The topic was a bit sensitive and he wouldn't dare bring up her mother anytime soon after the argument that strung from merely suggesting she'd go visit her.

Thea took a moment to gather her breath, turning away just a little bit. "It's because Tommy was killed." She has a hard time saying it, as if keeping the words inside made it less real. "He was like a brother to both of us. I can understand why he needs some time away." The brunette shook her head a bit. "My point is, even when he does come home the company is rightfully his, so that's probably going to take priority."

An almost reluctant sigh passed by his lips. He could think of a million reasons why he should disagree with her, but if she was busy here, perhaps his endeavors to help people and wounds received while doing so could be overlooked. Besides, if the vigilante was really gone like everyone supposed, despite the fact for some reason Roy just knew he wasn't, someone had to take over. "I guess I really don't have a choice, do I?"

"Someone learns fast." Her smile brightened a bit prior to settling when the amount of work was realized. "We better start cleaning up if we ever want this place open. I guess the first thing we should do is clear away the broken glass." With that in mind, she went in search for a broom, her heeled shoes clanking against the debris covered ground.

Roy stayed put, glancing around the area. A dismissible frown coated his lips for a moment. His steps were shallowly made against the floor as he walked further into the back. A door with a keypad caught his attention; the reason for security on a storage entrance didn't make much sense. He didn't bother attempting to open it, even if the curiosity was great.

Instead, he followed after Thea. His mind drifted to the vigilante as he walked, as it often did. He still felt it, the part of him that connected him to the man who saved his life. Roy never got the chance to thank him, though he supposed until he returned, as he wished would be soon, he had to protect as many people as possible. Hoping one day he'd get the chance to work side by side with the Hood, be his partner so to speak because the term sidekick didn't suit him well at all.

* * *

It took Tommy a few moments to gather his thoughts. Malcolm's words were spoken quietly, voice low but firm, his manner of speaking was something he grew accustomed to hearing. And maybe he could just read in his eyes, see it in the heavy set of his shoulders, that it was difficult for him to say such a thing. But of course, there was a part of him that believed he never knew what his father was thinking.

The fact that he disappeared for two years stung more than he lead anyone to believe and now the pain of that overflowed once again in a different sense. It was this place where Malcolm found refuge, these walls were the ones that surrounded him as he learned how to fight before he fell to the title of the Dark Archer. Was it also here where he succumbed to the darkness threatening his heart the second Rebecca was taken from them?

"No," Tommy remarked after a moment, his voice a bit harsh due to force of habit. His refusal was not in regards to circumstance, rather it was because he knew what it meant to become an assassin. "I can't. I don't want to kill people." This time his tone was greatly weighted with a deep sense of plead, a fallen breath escaping afterwards.

There's a small, rueful sort of smile on Malcolm's face, but there was also an aching despondency within his blue hues which he hoped he couldn't properly read. "Tommy, I don't think you understand the severity of the situation. Like I said, you have no choice unless you'd rather the alternative. Ra's al Guhl is a great man, but he will not tolerate those who don't conform to his ways, not after an incident that happened a few years back. There was a man who endured the training but in the end betrayed him. If not for one of his daughter's fondness of him, he'd probably be much worse off."

Tommy's hand ran over his mouth. Despite the wavering pain, he shifted up more until he was sitting. "Why would you bring me back knowing I would have to become a part of this life, the one you just said you didn't want me involved in? I never understood a lot of things you did growing up and maybe I still don't, but this, I can't even begin to wrap my head around it."

It was hard enough knowing he'd no longer get to see Laurel, Oliver, or Thea again. In a sense reality eluded him. In Starling City, he was no longer alive but here, someplace secluded from the outside world, he was. There were still so many things he wanted to say to those who thought he was gone and yet, the chance would forever remain unreachable.

Malcolm took a step towards Tommy, attempting to reason with him. "I know I wasn't a very good father to you after your mother passed away and I could have tried harder, been there for you more. But the past can't be changed. Your death is my burden to carry, I never meant for you to get caught in the middle of everything. I just wanted you to be safe."

"I don't think Mom would have wanted you to be so bent on getting revenge, or whatever you want to call it, on the people she was trying to help." Tommy couldn't meet his gaze this time, almost expecting him to raise his voice at him like he did in the last time Rebecca was brought up. "Nowhere in that voicemail did I hear her ask you to do that. I know I was only eight and I don't remember much about what happened but I do recall her, the way she was, how she was so happy to finally get that clinic open."

"You were hardly old enough to know what she wanted, to know what was really going on in the world around you," he expressed evenly, masking his dejection and difficulty on the subject. "What you need to understand right now is this place is your new home and whether you like it or not becoming an assassin is your only option. You have to undergo the training and swear your allegiance."

Tommy sighed and let his head fall against the pillow behind him. How could he become the very thing he reprimanded Oliver for, the thing that drove a wedge between them? Killing wasn't in him and it definitely wasn't a part of his friend either, the island being the place that altered him. Still, not much was known about his time spent on Lian Yu, not that he expected him to open up after he refused to hear a word about it.

"Let's just say I do agree and when it comes down to it, I can't bring myself to murder someone, then what happens?" He knew he couldn't get himself to do it, his hands were already shaking as is, even though his grip on the blankets hid it rather well. His blue orbs met his father's, but sunk a moment later. "You said it yourself, I can't die from fatal wounds."

Clearing his throat, the oldest Merlyn pressed his lips together before bringing himself to speak. "The Lazarus Pits have amazing rejuvenation powers but if a healthy person is placed inside, they will be killed in most instances. What saved you can also take away your life. There are some people who are let go, like I was after I requested, then there are those who escape, very few living to tell the tale."

"You asked to leave and they actually let you go?" Tommy repeated in question. He still wasn't used to it, talking this way with his father, somewhat openly since he had always kept so much of himself inside. Malcolm had completely shut him out and then just left for two years. But it's funny, he was no longer disbelieving him, he didn't even raise a brow in inquiry. It wasn't like he forgave him for what he did and he wasn't sure if he ever could.

"A decision they soon regretted. I was a valuable member and after breaking their code of honor, I'm lucky to still be alive, fortunate enough that Ra's al Ghul allowed me to bring you to the pit." Perhaps luck was on his side this time but he had to tread carefully from now on. His life was on the line and so was Tommy's, meaning he couldn't afford to do anything but listen to orders and get back his former position.

"I'm guessing they won't let me just leave," he remarked with a sigh. Confliction rose to his features at this point, blocking much of his other feelings. "I just don't think I can bring myself to do it but if I don't, I'm as good as dead again," said he without altering his tone, beneath the weariness a form of dryness, even irony could be discerned.

Malcolm remained in place but moved his hand onto Tommy's shoulder, his blue hues only avoiding him for a few seconds. "You have to make a choice, son, and I can't make it for you. I can only hope you think the consequences through." Because he couldn't afford to lose him, not after just getting him back. "I'll go get the doctor now."

Tommy said nothing as he left the room, he simply closed his eyes. Even when alone, he prevented the slight shiver that threatened to break his carefully held composure. It was hard to settle into this, being put in a position where one had to make an impossible choice. The whole assassin idea wasn't a fond one. He couldn't help but wonder if Oliver had to make similar judgments when on Lian Yu, ones that included life or death. It was always about endurance, simple survival of the fittest.

* * *

Once the doctor came and went, Tommy sat on the bed, his legs hanging over. The man who came to check on him said he was recovering just fine, but he felt the furthest thing away from the word. He constantly had to push the events that lead him here away, not wanting to think about the Undertaking or Laurel for that matter. It pained him too much to hold a single thought about her.

With a somewhat steady hand, he clutched the fabric of his shirt, no longer the bloodstained one he last wore, and tugged it upward with difficulty. A gaping scar visible with one probably mirroring it on his back if the lethal weapon managed to go all the way through his body. Unable to look at it for more than a few moments he dropped his hold on the material, letting it cover the area once more

Coldness seemed to be the only thing surrounding him. When a warm breath escaped his lips, the outtake could be seen as the weather outside easily seeped through the window. His fingers tightened together, nails pressing so hard an indent was sure to form. He felt nothing other than lost and confused, only having the familiar face of his father around.

It was quiet for a while, a good amount of minutes passing before a light knock could be heard. Tommy glanced over to see a woman coming inside. She had a long flow of brown hair and a rather welcoming expression stained on her face. Her clothing was different than he was used to seeing, but he supposed it was common here in Tibet.

The girl approached him, indenting her head the slightest bit. "My name is Talia, daughter of Ra's al Ghul. My father asked me to show you around." A small smile was present across her face, one that seemed to form rather easily. "It is better for you to get up and walk for a while after using the Lazarus Pit, your muscles need it. You have been gone for some time."

Without much complaint since sitting there was doing nothing for him, Tommy stood from the bed and licked his lips before speaking. "I'm Tommy, but you probably already knew that," he said somewhat introducing himself. "I didn't even give an answer and I'm already getting a tour of this place? I guess people expect me to agree…" His voice trailed off. And yet here he was, unable to fix things at home, he had no aid, no direction, no heart to put into anything.

"I'm sure Malcolm explained what happens if you don't," she mildly stated as they left the room and headed down the hallway. "Normally, my sister, Nyssa, would have showed you the temple but she is rather… busy at the moment," she ended up saying, thinking she wouldn't approve of her telling him anything about her without agreeing first.

Tommy glanced around as they walked, the wooden building looked old in design but to a certain degree new in structure. If a room wasn't brightened by sunshine coming through a window, fire was their source of light. It seemed like they lived almost primitive, no form of technology could be spotted. Perhaps their location could be the reason or it was due to the life they lived.

"This is where our recruits train," Talia mentioned, pausing at the door. The room was empty of people right now, simply consisting of a multitude of weaponry and basic accommodations. "Of course, it will take some time before you are able to use the space yourself. If you agree, my father will be teaching you how to fight one-on-one until he believes you are ready and Malcolm will help you learn how to shoot a bow and arrow, it's something most of us can do."

Tommy turned away from the room, leaning his back against the wall. His muscles ached some but that wasn't his reason wanting to veer his gaze. Being here almost felt surreal and he realized upon just seeing the little he had that this life would be far from easy. He swallowed thickly as he shifted on his feet and looked down for a long moment, sighing a little.

"I'm guessing you're not that happy about becoming a member," the brunette said, her fingers coming together. "You are highly spoken about, you know? My father has hopes that you will be just as worthy as Malcolm and maybe a bit more trustworthy. I can see it already, you have no drive to fight, no reason pushing you to want strength. Your dad found the will to fight through the loss of his wife, his need to protect your future, and hatred he felt towards the people of the Glades."

He glanced up at her, shaking his head. "I'm not my father, I can't do the things he's capable of." A trace of disdain was woven in his tone, the small amount perceived was enough to express his view. "I get that here he was a great fighter but at home, from my point of view after growing up without him, he only cared about himself."

"You two never really got along then?" She stood in front of him, arms now crossed. She didn't need an answer, it presented itself through their exchange. "I only know him from simple conversation, I have no right to say anything against you or otherwise." A slight nod was made in the direction they were heading and they continued down the hall.

A prolonged silence formed between them, Tommy unable to bring up anything else to add to the conversation. He was too stuck in the past for his own good, wanting anything to just go back, to change things. But it was ridiculous to let his mind ponder on matters that were already set in stone. All he had was the future and from this view it looked bleak and uninviting.

"In case you were wondering, the League's goal is to keep order, we don't just go out killing people on a whim." Since the aspect of taking someone's life was always an issue with new recruits, she felt the need to let him know there was more to it than that. "But there's something else occupying your thoughts isn't there? Is there someone back home you wish to return to?"

Keeping his pace even with hers, Tommy kept his eyes forward, jaw set for a few seconds. "Before I died, I messed up my friendship with someone I knew my whole life and broke up with my girlfriend. They probably both feel guilty about my death. My friend was too late when he reached me and the reason I was stuck in the building in the first place was because I saved her." Not that he could ever blame Laurel for what happened. "But I get it, I can't do anything about it now, so there's no point in thinking about it."

Yet, he couldn't stop. Laurel meant everything to him. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when, the precise moment he knew he fell for her. Tommy Merlyn had been a playboy all his life and maybe it was the mix of anguish over the loss of a friend that drew them together, but something pulled from that and held. It's possible that the change he went through, the motions wouldn't have been taken if he didn't have someone to want, someone he was willing to be a better person for.

Laurel was that girl, it couldn't be anyone else but her. Tommy would still be stuck in the endless life of his notorious ways, none the wiser to what love actually felt like. And he supposed, thinking back to the way he used to be, it was too garish for him now. It seemed, despite all the lies circling around, all the things and people taken from him, when with her, he fell into a comfortable pattern with his life. He was no longer the guy everyone pegged him for.

And if he was being honest with himself, he'd been in love with Laurel Lance for an absurdly long time. His whole life he lacked stability, the absence of his father, flings with random girls, none of those things provided him with what he was missing. But with her, he finally had it, only to lose her by his own follies. Jealousy took a toll on him and seeing her with Oliver, it proved to him that maybe she hadn't obtained the closure she needed, that she couldn't because they both still loved one another.

Mild surprise and maybe even a shade of amusement flashed within Talia's eyes as she glanced over. There was something about how wondrous he seemed to see things that she couldn't quite understand, though a part of her yearned to. "I've seen that look before." One she often saw in the mirror. "It's hard to be in love with someone you can never see, or in your case, she doesn't even know you're alive."

He couldn't bring himself to deny the accuracy of her words. "I don't know if she's better off that way or not. I just wish I knew if she was okay." Oliver said she made it out, meaning physically she was fine, but mentally, he wasn't so sure. Tommy could recall how she took Oliver's death, how hurt and lost she was for so long. But by saving her, guilt and remorse followed, there was no way to avoid either.

"Unfortunately, here we are cut off from the rest of the world," Talia started to explain, a slight turn of her body made in his direction as they went on. "Only certain individuals are allowed to come and go freely, those who my father can trust to come back and continue their role in the League. This life isn't an easy one and I know it isn't something anyone would want to choose. I am sorry."

He brushed off the apology easily with a shake of his head, he didn't even need to acknowledge it with words, for it would make it a bigger deal, it would have made the situation too real to want to comprehend. Still, she has nothing to feel bad about. She didn't do anything wrong nor was it her fault he was in this position, she was simply living the life she grew up with.

In fact, there were few things that scare him, now that he met death and escaped it in a sense. It wasn't his decision to come back, Malcolm was ridden with too much remorse for his own good, yet every other person his machine killed didn't seem to bother him in the least. He was an essence, a ghost, knowing he should have died, but was brought back to life instead.

Tommy sighed, thinking back to the very thing he wished he could forget. "If I have to become an assassin, and I'm not saying I want to because I don't, I'd rather have Laurel remember me for who I was, not the person I would have to become." His tone was almost withheld as he spoke, but he knew it would be better that way. Eventually, the mourning would end and everyone would continue with their lives, he knew that from experience, yet the memories, they stayed, permanently marked within your mind.

"You are most worried about the aspect of having to kill, are you not?" she asked, brows raised in slight curiosity. "As I mentioned before we do a lot more good than people realize. It all depends on how you look at it." Talia came to a stop once more near one of the larger windows, simply glancing outside. "Sometimes we are simply thrown into situations without our control. Adaptation is a great quality to possess if we ever hope to survive."

Tommy looked down at the snowy mountain peaks; the setting of the area was still a bit odd for him to see. Keeping his eyes directed downward, he pressed his lips together for a moment, his heart weighed down by the obstacles placed before him. "It's not like I have much of a choice, it's either become a member or I'm gone for good."

Letting a small smile trail across her mouth a light sort of diverged laugh escaped. "I grew up here, I didn't get to choose my life, but I accepted the way things are a long time ago. And I know it must be hard for someone who lived on the outside to suddenly see themselves barricaded from the world that once accepted them. Here it's like you don't exist."

"I shouldn't even be alive. I'm just not sure I can do what everyone expects of me. I'm not as strong willed as people think," Tommy quietly replied. As it turned out no matter what the circumstance Oliver always seemed to be ahead of him. It was like every step he took he was always behind the shadow of his best friend. He tried not to let it get to him but on occasion the notion wedged its way forward.

Tommy always wanted Laurel the way Oliver had her and he realized he could never compete since his he was indeed 'the hood' his girlfriend was so intrigued by. In the past Laurel lied to him about meeting up with the vigilante, which hurt Tommy more than anything. But he was trying to change, he was being honest while no one else in his life seemed to be doing much of that.

The brunette's eyes soon focused on him, her fingers tightening around her arms. "I'll warn you now, if you accept, the training is not a walk in the park, it will take more than a few days to complete. My father is a good man but he can be ruthless. He has patience though and knows how to draw strength out, the fears that holds you back as well."

There was lightness to her expression that he just couldn't quite fathom. She could talk with ease and quite honestly, the woman was just like the girls he knew back in the city. Just because Talia lived here her whole life, it didn't appear to change the kindness in her heart, the one she was presenting while speaking to him anyway. Tommy could also sense traces of brutality in her too, something he was sure everyone here shared and needed to have while titled an assassin.

"You will learn to confront your worries, how to face the truth, find the drive you think you lack. But building up your strength isn't the only thing you need to know. Gaining knowledge, learning, it plays a vital role. You can't truly be strong without both." She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. "If I were to ask you, considering everything I told you, what would your answer be?"

"I wish I could say no, but I can't see any other option," Tommy mentioned, his voice coming out a bit hoarse, seeing his body was still settling into its normal functions. He said nothing else on the matter, not really wanting to discuss it further. Far too much was flooding his mind at the moment, his thoughts stuck with too many emotions to properly separate them.

Talia took a step away from the view, her shoes echoing against the wooden flooring. "Let's finish the tour, and then I'll bring you back to your room so you can get more rest. Tomorrow you will meet my father. He and Malcolm will be expecting your reply." Retaining her epitome of composure, she smiled once again. "You seem like a good person, Tommy Merlyn, I hope when it comes down to it, you make the right choice."

Tommy veered his blue hues away in what seemed like a regret filled acceptance and soon started to walk alongside her. He already knew what he had to do. Even if he managed to get the words out, following through with the actions, the movements throughout the day, those would prove to be the most challenging. In order to live he had to become the one thing he never wanted to be.

* * *

**When I was almost done typing this chapter my computer randomly decided to turn off and not save anything, although I had it on auto save and saved it myself, so I had to start all over with the last section. Regardless, of that issue it was interesting going back to how things were in the beginning of season two with Roy and Thea. I wish they never broke up though, they're one of my favorite pairings. When it comes to Tommy, I'm trying my best to keep him in character and considering the situation, it's a bit difficult. Please leave a review and let me know your thoughts on this chapter. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry it took me so long but I can only update so often when I'm working on three fan fictions. I'm happy people are enjoying this story, it's interesting to write. Tommy has always been my favorite character, I just wish they didn't kill him off so soon, or at all, but I still believe there's a way to bring him back to the show if the writers wanted to, that is.**

* * *

Laurel brought her hand up and ran it through her long curls of hair. It was night and the streetlamps were already lit, a few working while others flickered. A chilling gust swept past her, but her attention wasn't drawn from the building she stood in front of. It was a constant reminder of what happened even though it was merely a pile of debris, but like a ghost, it never truly faded.

It was hard to say how many times she came back to CNRI, but she knew it wasn't for the files she lost, or because she had spent so many hours there, the very reason rested on who and what she had lost in that very structure, the one she had once found hope, believed she could do some good. But that was all fabrications because when it came down to it absolutely nothing mattered, everything was gone.

Tommy had left without saying goodbye, telling her he loved her instead. He took a piece of her with him, and yet she couldn't even think his name without hurting inside. A single tear found its way down her cheek, and she angrily brushed it away. Mad since it was the only thing she found herself doing as of late. And the brunette refused to cry anymore. She doesn't deserve to, afraid that if she started, she'd never stop.

She suffered from nightmares too, ones like she had when Oliver and Sara were dead. Now it was just her sister gone and her friend off someplace probably trying to do the same thing she was. Laurel shifted uneasily, crossing her arms in the process. Sleep eluded her ever since Tommy died. That night always found its way into her dreams and turned them into gruesome pictures. She constantly jolted awake with sweat covering her body and the need to mourn for the man she lost all over again.

Although she was alone something caused her to turn around completely, the feeling of being watched perhaps, but when Laurel looked around she saw no one. Paranoia frayed her nerves, the feeling of being safe, it no longer existed, not in the Glades and not even in her own home where she lived with Tommy for so long it almost felt unreal.

Laurel squinted her eyes, tilting her head just a fraction. There was something in the air around her and it felt familiar, warm, inviting even, the good memories of him perhaps? Yet no one seemed to be close by, she was all alone. Defending herself wasn't a problem, she could do that with ease, it was the fear of the unknown that kept her on guard.

Her lips pressed together. It wasn't until the soft vibrating of her phone did she turn away. Her purse loosely hanging from her fingers as if it would drop at any second. She reached for her phone with a light sigh. Laurel already knew who it was, the only person who had been calling constantly. The last thing she wanted to do was have a conversation but it was better to answer than keep ignoring people.

A sniffle was made before the cell was flipped open and pressed to her ear. "Dad, I'm not really in the mood to talk to anyone right now." Her voice came out a lot weaker than she wanted it to, but it really couldn't have been helped. She already knew putting others at arm's length wasn't the best idea, however, it was the only thing she could do.

"I know you're at still CNRI," Quentin said as he crossed a street. "Why don't we have dinner? There are a few things I want to talk to you about." It took a while for her to say anything back. He understood how hard things were for her, but he had to do something to keep her from falling into her own depression. "If not that than at least let me drive you home."

"I'm nearly back now," she automatically answered. "You don't have to go out of your way." She didn't need the concern, didn't want it. It was too much and it only caused her to push away more. Laurel turned for a moment, taking a few steps. Her mind was still attentively held on the empty space as if shifting her gaze would somehow cause her to miss something.

Quentin took a small breath. He was conscious to how sensitive the topic was to bring up, yet he did anyway. "Listen, I know losing Tommy has been difficult, but you can't keep doing these kinds of things. He saved your life and I'm grateful for that but you have to try and move on. We both know how tough it was when Sara died. Don't let yourself get caught up in it all like I did."

"Dad, I appreciate the advice but it's really not necessary. I'm fine." Her tone was tactful and somewhat stressed, trying to act as if every time he was brought up didn't put a bigger strain on her heart. "I just got a new job at the District Attorney's Office and it's not like I need help dealing with this. The only reason he died was because the Hood let him." He could have saved him, so why didn't he do something? "That's all there is to it."

In her mind the blame rested on the vigilante. She saw him leaving just as she entered the building. Laurel thought that man was a hero, now she resented the word. Nevertheless, the hooded man vanished after the quake, many assumed he was dead and she could care less at the moment. It was true that he helped her on a few cases and saved her life, but once the person she loved was taken, why did anything else matter anymore?

He could hear the resentment slipping past her lips and shook his head some. Still, he decided it best not to get into an argument. Really, they fought enough over too many petty things in the past. And right now, so soon after the funeral, it was better to avoid another. Instead the cop focused on the other topic she brought up. "This new job of yours, when do you start?"

"Monday. It's not that different than the work I did at CNRI." Laurel took a step, indolently waiting out the conversation. "Now I'll just be representing the government in the prosecution of criminal offenses rather than handling the small cases in the Glades." Her voice did drop some though and it was evident in her original disdain and melancholy for the subject.

"Seems like we both have adjusting to do," Quentin mentioned with a small shrug. Approaching his police car, since he no longer held the same position as before, he rested against the door. His eyes scanned the area for a few moments before he brought himself back to the discussion. "So, about dinner, if you decide to say yes, I'll take you where you want, my treat."

The brunette mentally debated the idea. Her gaze realigned with the empty space, an aching making its way into her chest. She knew what he was trying to do and wanted no part of it, but found herself giving into his offer. She wasn't exactly eating all that much and her father knew that, so she expected no less "Alright, only one meal, nothing else."

After plans were made and goodbyes were exchanged another sigh fled from her lungs. The water that managed to escape her eyes was dry against her skin. Regardless, she brought her fingers up and brushed passed her cheeks anyway. In an unsteady motion, Laurel turned away, eyes gleaming as she studied the area another time. A stride was taken further inward as if the place still stood, as it once seemed so indestructible.

Her eyes closed and Tommy's image came to mind like it always did and without much vigor, she pushed it aside. Looking down once more, she held back any words. It was too hard at his grave to say anything and just as perplexing here. A few paces backwards were taken, her hand dropping to her side. One last fleeting look was given before she opted to go meet her father.

Oliver was gone and Thea was doing alright, at least that's what she wanted people to see. Laurel knew if not for Roy's constancy, she would be much further lost. Despite it all, the brunette was aware of how challenging it was for everyone else around her. The youngest Queen always got the worse backlash because of her family. She couldn't help but wonder, if Tommy was still alive, how many people would hold blame to him even if he had nothing to do with the Undertaking. Malcolm was his father, which would make him easier to hold accountable than anyone else.

Once she stepped onto the sidewalk, her strides were small and close together. Coldness whipped around her, yet it made no difference, what did it matter if all her thoughts and growing wounds were introverted? She didn't twist her head around nor did her pace falter. Her heart was too heavy and her mind too muddled to concentrate on anything else of late. Her new job would only compensate as a distraction.

She would meet up with Quentin to get something to eat, finally giving into the request since he asked more than enough already. They would talk. He would ask her if she was okay. The question she couldn't stand to hear anymore. And she would say yes regardless. He wouldn't believe her but would not inquire a second time. It simply became a routine procedure.

* * *

The next day came pretty quickly, much to Tommy's dismay. His conversation with Talia was fresh in his mind, as if they just spoke a few minutes ago. He wished so badly that he could have opened his eyes and found himself in Laurel's apartment with her sleeping besides him. Instead, his eyes met the plain wooden walls of the room given to him.

With some reluctance, he stood from the mattress. An unyielding feeling soon followed as the coldness evoked his senses. He felt completely alone even though people surrounded him. The only familiar face he had was that of Malcolm's and right now, he was the last person Tommy wanted to see. He was angry, not so much at his father, rather it was the circumstances of the situation and yet, his resentment could only be placed on the man who put him in the predicament he faced.

Malcolm always hid his objectives well, especially in the past, gilded by the public eye as a humanitarian who simply wished to save the city, though in many aspects and despite popular belief he thought what he did by leveling the Glades was exactly that. Although Tommy could hardly remember the man his father once was, before Rebecca was killed and everything was normal, he could still think back and recall the feeling of being happy. No family was perfect but it was the little flaws that made it all the more memorable.

Joining the League of Assassins was his only option no matter how much he disliked the fact. The training was something he could endure, the actual killing, however, couldn't even be thought of. It simply wasn't in him. In spite of that, his decision would be announced today in front of the very man who taught Malcolm everything he knew. In a sense it was almost too much to bear.

Not bothering to wait for someone to come to his room, he opened the door and left. The long expanse of the hallway was eerily quiet. The sun was already up and pouring through the limited amount of windows and regardless of the warm sunshine it was still cold, making the area feel as unwelcoming as it looked. Tommy went on walking, his footsteps echoing.

He passed by a few rooms, yet, he never saw anyone. It was like he was in the middle of dream, if not a nightmare. Just about every passageway was the same, only minor differences separated them. It was easy to get lost but he kept going, needing to move around. His muscles were still sore and ached a bit but nothing he couldn't ignore.

"Tommy, you shouldn't be wondering off on your own. It's not exactly the safest thing to do," Malcolm announced as he walked up to his son. When he turned around to face him, he could already tell from his expression how tired he was. "Besides, you're in no condition to be on your own. Ra's expects us to see him within the hour. Have you made up your mind?"

Although he kept his usual façade, the older of the two couldn't hold back the slight regret in his tone. It was extremely important for him to know what his answer was so he knew if he needed to persuade him differently if Tommy went against the idea. Honestly, he didn't want it either, but sometimes life placed you in impossible conditions, Malcolm knew that all too well.

"Like I told Talia yesterday, I want to say no, but I can't see any other option," he replied, his eyes dropping. "I don't want anything to do with this place or the people here. What they do is wrong and I can't be a part of it, not if I have to take away the life of an innocent person. I already know if I agreed, I couldn't bring myself to kill someone even if they did something to deserve it."

And perhaps that was the worst part. Whether he joined or not the same fate awaited him. Tommy could never understand how murder came so easy to them, to his father and Oliver. In all likelihood, it was challenging for them at first but he didn't want to be like that. It changes a person in so many ways. Killing for defense, that was understandable but anything else it wasn't all that clear to him.

Shaking his head, since he didn't want to have this conversation anymore, Tommy started to walk away. It was the same as turning his back on his problems but that's what he always did. Whenever things got tough, he left, maybe doing so unconsciously at first until it became purely habitual of him. Either way, he was too weighed down by the concept.

Sensing the hostility returning to his son's voice, he let out a sigh just as Tommy started to leave. Much like he had to do in the past, Malcolm grabbed his arm to stop him. "You might not believe this but all I wanted for you was happiness. If it will allay this tension between us I will try to make things a bit easier on you, but I can only do so much." Ra's al Ghul wasn't exactly a lenient man.

"You made it pretty clear what happens if I refuse," Tommy remarked, pulling his arm free. "We are only in the problem because you were so intent on going through with the Undertaking and feeling bad about what happened to mom that you couldn't move forward. You shut me out when I was a kid but I see now, just like I did that night, the kind of person you are."

He took a step back from his son and placed his hands in his pockets. His expression remained distant for some time as he took in his unforgiving words and almost hurt way they came out. He didn't expect Tommy to happily agree but he believed he was past all those issues. Eventually, he turned back to face Tommy before he continued speaking, his voice full of conviction

"A lot happened during those two years," the older man said heavily. "So many times I've thought about telling you about this place, but I always decided it was better not to. I wanted to spare you. I had to face some harsh truths and realities, both things I always knew you would one day have to confront. But against my better judgment I put it off. Perhaps a bit too long…"

It was both haunting and expectant to hear those words from his father. Regardless, he kept his eyes on him, his face devoid of the confliction he felt on the inside, though he was sure some of it seeped through and colored his expression. Swallowing thickly, he ran his hand over his chin. "Don't act like you actually care about not being around when I was younger."

"Tommy, I always cared. You're my son and I would do anything for you but you're right, I was too involved in everything else." It was hard to admit, on the other hand, his faults were realized a while ago. "You still could have come to me if you needed to." Could he honestly say he would have even paid attention if he did ask for help? In all probability, he would have just ignored him and the realization of that dug pretty deeply.

"No, I couldn't," he replied with an almost rueful smile. "From the outside, it always looked like you were there; you paid my bills, you lived in the house, you bailed me out every time I got into trouble. But it was Oliver's father who took me to my first hockey game, who taught me how to fly fish. He did all the things with me and Ollie that I wanted to do with you."

"It was better for you to be with the Queen's," Malcolm suddenly told him. Robert, despite his flaws, was more suited for those activities. He was too absorbed in his company even when Tommy was a child and Rebecca was alive. "No matter how much I wish things could be have turned out differently, the past cannot be changed. You don't have to forgive me, but I am sorry."

Pausing, he pursed his lips. Tommy leaned against the wall, letting some silence overcome the hallway they stood in. "I never wanted an apology, I just wanted you there," he told him, his gaze finding its way back to his father's. "I lost mom, I didn't have to lose you too, but I did. You proved that to me every day." It felt relieving to finally get those words out, however, he knew it made no difference.

Malcolm drew his head back a little; something Tommy told him a while ago came echoing back. _You know what, dad,_ _sometimes the people you want there the most aren't. You taught me that, multiple times_. He knew now he had to fix things, his son was all he had left. "I'm here now and I will do what I can, but you have to let me help you. I know you don't want to become an assassin, I understand that. On the other hand, if you want to live there's no other choice. You're going to have to let go of everything else and trust me."

* * *

Being back on Lian Yu, it was strange and yet held a familiar feeling. Oliver spent his time training, pushing aside the events here and the ones that happened in Starling, but mostly he couldn't help his thoughts from taking over. And they'd always pull towards Tommy. It was painful, even more so since he blamed himself. He didn't make it in time. He couldn't do anything but watch as the life drained from his friends face.

The island was the same, it hasn't changed since he left it. And the three graves he made were all there as well, one for his father, Yao Fei, and Shado. Oliver approached them, his expression dragged down by their loss. It all started in this spot when he was shot by that arrow. It was over a year ago he was here and yet it felt like no time passed at all. He still made mistakes, the same ones over and over again as if he learned nothing from being in this place.

The blond lowered himself to the ground and took a breath, needing to talk to them, tell them everything. "I can't be the Hood anymore. Tommy died and I wasn't able to save him. I couldn't right your wrongs or honor any of you. Merlyn's earthquake machine went off and now half the Glades are destroyed. I went back to Starling thinking I could just put that outfit on and use a bow and arrow to save the city, but I failed."

He wasn't worthy of the hero title and felt very underserving of it. He shifted his eyes between their resting places almost as if waiting for a reply. Of course none would come. He made refuge in the plane he and the others called home, knowing that being here was the only way he could find clarity and disclosing his follies to them was just the beginning.

"I can't go back and kill. Ever since Tommy found out about my secret all we did was argue and I just kept putting the city before our friendship. Isn't that how it's supposed to go though?" The citizens of Starling before his own issues, it seemed simple enough, yet he never factored in the damage it caused others. "A few things with Laurel happened that shouldn't have and now I can't even fix them."

Sleeping with her was a mistake, especially after telling his friend to fight for her. It was a reckless move and it caused a bigger rift to form. Oliver shook his head as the memories flooded back. The death of anyone was hard to overcome. It was possible but this time it was someone close to him, someone he could always count on no matter what.

"So many people died because of me, you guys, Sara, Slade, Tommy. I abandoned mom who's in jail now, Thea, my friends and I don't know what to do. I always turned to the three of you for help because I always trusted you to guide me in the right direction," he further expressed. He cleared his throat some and looked away for a moment. "I'm sorry but I can't be the person you all expected me to be."

Once he stopped talking the silence around him seemed to grow deeper. The leaves still rustled whenever the wind blew and waves crashed onto the shore, and yet Oliver heard none of it. He was too stuck in his failures. It was never good to get consumed by them. He had lost so many people already, the idea of another person taken from his life tore him down even more.

Tommy was gone, and Oliver was still here, running through the woods, living like he had so long ago when he had hope of returning home and a goal set. As children they had spent so much of their lives together. It never was enough, how could it be when the other died so young? He wished he devoted more time with him and their friendship.

Now, all he had was the sound of his laughter and witty remarks haunting him in the deepest part of his mind. With a heavy sigh Oliver looked back at the graves he made, wondering how the funeral went. He couldn't be there, didn't want to see him buried. It all seemed to final. Instead he escaped here; running away from problems was just another thing he and Tommy had in common.

Leaving was easier. Anything to stop the agony that coursed through his veins, anything to the stop hurt he caused himself and other around him. He knew they all deserved better. So Oliver Queen got away as soon as possible, disappeared again and there was no chance of the Hood returning either. Nobody would notice and if they did, they'd soon forget about the man in green. He felt like a ghost for so long anyway. So, like the ghost he became, he left, wordlessly, and without goodbyes.

* * *

Trust was a fickle thing. It was hard to gain and easy to lose. Placing any sort of reliance on his father, that was a hard thing for Tommy to do. Once he and Malcolm settled a few things, he led him to the room where Ra's would be. Making haste was needed since they were expected, but he made it a point to remind his son just how ruthless this man could be.

The area they entered was just like any other Tommy had seen here except this one held more items. His blue hues quickly scanned the place before landing on the person who just stood from his chair. For someone who held such wisdom, he somewhat expected an older man, however, he features presented knowledge beyond his years and skill beyond expectation.

Ra's al Ghul waited for them to approach and greeted Malcolm with a nod before turning towards the younger. "It's good to see you're awake and feeling better. I trust my daughter informed you about what it is we do. And as much as I hate to skip formalities and get straight to business, I need to know what you decided. Remember, you cannot change your mind. Allegiance and loyalty are not things to make light of."

Tommy hesitated to speak and felt Malcolm placed a hand on his shoulder for reassurance. "I chose to join the League," he announced despite the drop in his stomach felt after letting the words out. It was either this or death, for most it would be a simple choice, anyone would agree without reluctance. The concept was the issue, for he knew exactly what it entailed.

"As I hoped you would," the older man stated, his head slightly inclined as he observed the younger Merlyn. Drawing his hands behind his back, he took a step forward. "You leaned to bury a lot of emotions, anger especially. I will teach you how confront it and face it head on. You have lost much in your life, just as your father has but in your eyes I see no motivation, no drive."

Although he was weary about speaking freely to him, he pushed past it and kept calm. "Honestly, I don't want to be a part of this. I have nothing to gain or lose for that matter." Everyone he knew was safe, at least he hoped they were. Thea and Laurel would stay in Starling while he knew Oliver wouldn't, he could never be rooted when loss hit.

That only left him to assume his friend returned to the island. It was a wild guess but it seemed likely. Lian Yu brought upon many tragedies, things he was never told about yet knew existed. How else could he have gained so many scars or learned to fight without harsh discipline? He knew the blond better than anyone, although the distance that grew tested that theory.

Ra's stood there for a moment, letting his thoughts come together. Tommy was young and by all means reckless. Being alive as long as he's been, it was easy to read someone like him, someone who was extremely guarded and kept his emotions hidden behind easily placed smiles. He was much like his best student, but unlike that person, he lacked the very thing that gave purpose to fight, to gain strength.

"Be that as it may, there's always something to draw out. An event, a person perhaps, that you're willing to become strong for," Ra's continued to explain. "It's simple survival, kill or be killed. But here it's more in depth than that. To be a full-fledged member you have to be willing to put aside everything and leave attachments behind. They're only use is incentive."

Being dead pretty much took care of those problems. With no one knowing he was alive, it somewhat eased the fact. Tommy glanced away and kept his almost stiff stance. His fingers twitched inward, the tense atmosphere getting to him rather quickly. His attention was veered to his father once he started speaking, simply adding more to what was already said.

"I learned much here and I'm sure you will as well," Malcolm mentioned, a nod given soon after. "Once Ra's feels you are ready to learn archery, I will start teaching you. Taking on two different tasks, combat and how to shoot, it will be difficult but something I'm sure you can handle. You're more capable than you realize and possess the same amount of strength I do." He was confident about that.

Tommy could only look between the two men. There was no reason to hope for something more to come of his life now but the question on his lips came out before he could stop himself. "And what happens after I complete all the training?" His eyes rested on his father, whose expression was calm and collected like it constantly held no matter what happened.

"As any assassin would do, you'd be sent out on jobs or short missions. If you prove yourself worthy of a higher position you would be granted more privileges," Malcolm went on to say with ease, though he was happy Tommy finally settled into the idea and no longer put up a fight. "You already have one now. Ra's al Ghul only teaches certain individuals, not many get the honor of learning from him."

The oldest Merlyn thought highly of his mentor. He provided him with many things, the skill to fight, wisdom, a reason to carry on, and much more. Still, he wouldn't have brought Tommy into this if it could have been avoided. Despite that, his son would become stronger just like he wanted. Even if he would only teach archery to him, it was something.

Ra's looked upon the young man again and brought his hands in front of him before clasping his fingers together. "To manipulate the fears of others, you must first master your own. I can only teach you what you are willing to learn. There can be no hesitation, nothing to hold you back from delivering the final blow." He paused, his chin lifting up a fraction. "Are you ready to begin?"

* * *

**I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. The story's main focus is Tommy but I like to show other people and how they're dealing with his death before season two actually started. I know some people want me to do a time skip to when Tommy is in Starling but please be patient, it's coming soon. I just have a few details I would like to flush out before that happens. If you can leave a review I would really appreciate it!**


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